


Attachment

by DarkSecrets666



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Loss of Virginity, M/M, Romance, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 15:31:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16390358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkSecrets666/pseuds/DarkSecrets666
Summary: "John, I know I'm not the most... Reading the emotional state is not my area but it comes to my attention that you have a question," Sherlock set down his violin. John has a question about Sherlock's sex life





	Attachment

The sound of a single violin echoed in the small flat of 221B Baker Street, its melody timeless and sweet. The young man playing it seemed lost in thought, his hands playing the instrument instinctively after a lifetime of practice. Still dressed in his usual black suit that closely matched the curls of his dark hair, Sherlock Holmes mused that a normal person would think of sleep at three in the morning but he had a three patch problem and the dimness of the lounge helped the clogs go round.

Across from him sat a rugged man of a similar age but, slightly tanned and sandy blond, he appeared different in almost every way. Dr John Watson was watching his friend with a curious expression on his face, only half listening to Sherlock's mutterings but that never usually mattered anyway; the consulting detective was known for going on for hours even when John was halfway across London.

The violin stopped suddenly.

"John, I know I'm not the most... Reading the emotional state is not my area but it comes to my attention that you have a question," Sherlock set down his violin.

John remained silent for a moment. "Its a bit personal," he warned his flatmate, leaning forward a little in his seat. "Mycroft said something..."

"Mycroft always says something," Sherlock snipped but the comment went ignored.

"You said that sex doesn't alarm you," John gave a flustered cough as he shifted nervously, "and Mycroft said 'how would you know'. I'm not entirely hopeless, Sherlock. I know what he was implying."

"Your question?" Sherlock asked, unfazed.

"You've never..."

Sherlock arched an eyebrow. "Never what?"

John looked a little annoyed, "You're going to make me say it?" He sighed, "You're a virgin?"

Something like amusement crossed the consultant's sharp features, "That is personal," he agreed, "It concerns you?"

"Its just unusual," the retired soldier replied, "At our age, most people are expected to have had relationships, to have been... Intimate." He didn't meet the detective's eyes, "I mean, most people have urges and act on those...um...urges."

"John, I'm not most people," Sherlock was definitely amused, the tiniest smile playing at the corners of his lips, "Urges or no, the simple fact is that its just never come up. There are few people in my life I can claim an attachment to and either I could never find myself in bed with them or they could never find themselves in bed with me."

The sentiment of these words hit John like a ton of bricks. "You mean... You wouldn't just have a one night stand? You want that kind of attachment?" He was staring at his friend like he had grown another head.

Sherlock felt the heat rise to his cheeks and knew that colour had flooded there. "Intimacy requires intimacy," he said sourly, "It isn't my fault if this body won't cooperate without that kind of attachment."

There were several emotions processing through John now; shock, amusement and confusion being the most prominent. He knew his friend tended to distance himself from anything too emotional but he had never suspected that the primal act of sex would come under that category for someone who was as cold as Sherlock could be.

Another thought crossed John's mind. "So... Which am I?" he asked, now perched on the edge of his seat.

"Excuse me?"

"Which am I?" the doctor asked again, "Someone you can't see yourself in bed with or someone you don't think would think of you as a bed partner?"

It was a moment before Sherlock responded, his head tilting to the side as his eyes narrowed as if figuring out another case. "Why?" the question instead of an answer was a calculation, an obvious one.

"Because," John said as he stood up, moving closer to the taller of the two, "I want to know if I'll get punched," he straddled Sherlock, sitting himself quite comfortably on the other's lap. Wide eyed and frozen, the dark haired detective didn't move as John's mouth closed over his own in a soft, careful kiss.

As soon as their lips connected, Sherlock seemed to be brought back to life, his mouth responding in kind as his hands slipped up John's hips and under the old knitted Jumper Mrs Hudson had made last Christmas for John. Sherlock could feel where his friend had put on weight since leaving active duty, the soft skin of John's back telling the story of an easier life but not one without exercise considering their life as a detecting duo. His own heart rate was elevated as his mouth eagerly attacked John's neck, earning a few groans from the soldier in his arms.

Hands lowering once again, Sherlock pulled John closer by the hips and allowed his fingers to dip beneath the waist and just a little which was all he could manage with a belt keeping the doctor's trousers up. Their mouths found one other again and Sherlock found he was not opposed to John's fingers gripping his curls just so long as the soldier was kissing him. Hips grinding into his groin, Sherlock was unable to remain silent as his desires got the best of him. He began fumbling with John's belt as John began fumbling with Sherlock's buttons.

"Bed?"

"Oh god yes."

Still kissing, tugging off each others clothes, they stumbled into the closest bedroom which was Sherlock's. Jacket gone, shirt unbuttoned, Sherlock had never been less composed since John had met him and it was a look he appreciated very much. He shoved the taller onto the bed and climbed on top as Sherlock shifted back against the pillows. Trousers were discarded somewhere in the dark and John straddled the famous detective for a second time.

It occurred to the good doctor that, as controlling as he was, Sherlock was allowing John to take the lead on this area where the detective lacked expertise. It was a kind of trust that was rarely demonstrated by someone who was as distant as Sherlock could be and quite touching if you knew Mr Holmes like Dr Watson did. Skin against skin told of this trust too and John took great pleasure in just the feel of Sherlock against him.

"John," Sherlock murmured, "I don't want to hurt you."

John shook his head, "You won't," he replied, "I just need to be stretched a bit."

"How...?"

A soft chuckle left the sandy blonde and he kissed Sherlock again but briefly this time, "Your fingers, Sherlock," he grinned, "Or I can do it. I can show you this first time." When the other nodded, John reached behind and began preparing himself.

Of all the things Sherlock had seen, watching John finger himself was far beyond one of the more erotic. He wanted to touch himself as he watched, especially when John moaned and bit his lip. He didn't even need to see those fingers working inside John, just the lust in those big brown eyes.

"J-John..." Sherlock choked out, almost a plea and John responded by lowering himself onto the dark haired man's erection. "Dear god, John..." his hands ran up the doctor's thighs, feeling his lover trembling above him. "Are you... Are you..."

"I'm fine," he assured Sherlock, one hand on the headboard and one on the detective's chest. His hips began to move, slow and firm as grunts of pleasure left his lips. Sherlock couldn't help himself and his hips responded involuntarily but John didn't seem to mind; in fact, he rather enjoyed it.

Bouncing on Sherlock's cock, John could think of nothing other than how good it felt when their hips moved together. He shoved himself down faster, groaning as Sherlock thrust up into him faster. He felt the consultant's hands gripping his hips and relished in the touch as they made love for the first time.

"God..." John moaned, ecstasy blinding him as he leaned back, moving his hips eagerly. Bolts of pleasure shot through him with each movement and the slap of skin on skin filled the room.

Then, without warning, John found himself on his back with Sherlock above him, gripping the headboard as he hammered inside John harder and faster. John was left to do nothing but moan and cry out as he was well and truly fucked into the mattress. "Sherlock!"

Being inside John was a feeling the detective would not soon forget. He enjoyed the heat and the friction and John's nails in his back. He enjoyed the nakedness and the intimacy and just John beneath him, calling his name. He was close now, so close and, if John's noise was anything to go by, so was he.

The unexpected tightness of John's orgasm had Sherlock following along soon after, pumping his seed into his lover as he trembled above him. For a moment, he couldn't move and simply resorted to nuzzling John's neck affectionately. It was instinctive and born out of a moment of vulnerability he had never shared with anyone.

The moment passed and Sherlock pulled out, lying beside John. They allowed themselves to catch their breath, staring at the ceiling while they recovered. Slowly the feeling seemed to come back to their legs and John felt the ache that sex left behind.

"How was it?" John asked. "I mean... Your first time..."

Sherlock considered this for a moment. "Enjoyable," he replied and glanced at John, "There are still things to explore and we need to find what we like and... Well, that's assuming you'd want to again... With me."

John rolled onto his side, propping his head up with his hand. "We had this conversation," he said, "You didn't want to have a one night stand. I came onto you knowing that." He reached over and pushed Sherlock's messy curls out of his face, "You wanted intimacy, an attachment and I offer it to you freely. This wasn't a one off for me eith-mmm." John was cut off by lips on his.

Sherlock was unfamiliar with the giddiness that gripped him and had lost control, kissing John fervently as his heart swelled. He pulled him closer, glad to feel their bodies against each other once again. Withdrawing, Sherlock pulled the duvet over them both. "As much as I want to do it again," he yawned, "it looks like we both could use some sleep before dawn."

John chuckled and gave his lover a quick peck on the lips before they both settled down to sleep.

The room was still dark when the 8:00am alarm went off, barely any light getting in through the heavy, black curtains. John groaned in discomfort as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Arms wrapped around him and he was tugged back down beneath the duvet as Sherlock demanded the doctor's attention.

A grin spread wide across John's face as his mouth found Sherlock's, his hand sliding up his lover's shoulder into thick curls that his fingers tangled into delicately. His tongue met his lover's and a soft sigh left John's throat as he felt Sherlock crawl back on top of him. He groaned, his body responding to the warmth of the detective's pressed against his own.

"Sherlock," John struggled to focus on more than the lips against his throat, "I have work... Jesus..." he gasped when his earlobe was nibbled on.

"Shall I stop?" there was obvious amusement in that voice.

"Don't you dare," John moaned.

In moments, Sherlock was inside his lover again, thrusting hard and slow as he kept attacking John's throat with nibbles and kisses. The soldier was defeated, a mess beneath the only man he had given all the tools to destroy him, knowing Sherlock would not. The sheets were lost to the floor as they moved on the bed, John arching with a delighted whimper as his lover slammed in harder.

"Shit... Sherlock," the sandy blonde groaned, "Faster..."

The consultant had no problem with complying to this demand, his hips snapping forward faster as he drove himself deeper, his laboured breath warm in John's ear. "John..." he panted, enjoying the moan that the doctor gave in response. Arms tightened around Sherlock, the shorter male trembling with ecstasy with each meeting of their hips.

"Sherlock... God..." John lost himself as he climaxed, groaning as he felt Sherlock release seconds later. He continued to hold his lover as they both rode out their orgasm. Soft kisses on John's shoulder lulled him back to the world and he relaxed his hold.

"It appears..." Sherlock murmured, "that I have been waiting a long time for this."

John frowned slightly as Sherlock lay beside him. "For sex?"

The detective snorted, "No... Well, yes," he shifted onto his side, "But... more than that... attachments and...this," he seemed to be finding some difficulty trying to explain.

John, of course, understood. He kissed Sherlock quite tenderly and pressed their foreheads together. "Join me in the shower," he said and felt their foreheads bump as the dark-haired detective nodded.

They got up, John limping slightly, and made their way to the bathroom together. Sherlock turned on the shower and allowed John to hobble in first. With careful hands and a tenderness that was usually so reluctantly showed, Sherlock washed John's back gently as he pressed kisses to the blonde's neck.

"Sherlock," John sighed happily, leaning a little into his lover's hands, "You're a lot better at this than I thought you'd be."

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John, pressing his face to his hair. "It's talking about it where the issues lies," he murmured. "And the public displays just make me uncomfortable. I don't understand the need."

"Its ok," his hands gripped Sherlock's arm, "This is more than enough."

They washed up and got out, drying and dressing. It didn't take them long to ready themselves for the day. Sherlock's phone rang and both men glanced in the direction of the sound and knew at once what it meant.

The game was on.


End file.
